A Living Nightmare
by Cherie R. Lynn
Summary: Courage lives in everyone, but it doesn't erase the fear.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater.

A Living Nightmare

It doesn't happen every night. Some nights she will sleep peacefully throughout, softly snoring into her pillow as she dreams of nonsensical events. Her breathing is slow and even, and the night is quiet. There is no rush that streams through her blood and propels her from the dream.

Tonight, however, she finds herself forcing her eyes wide open and sitting up with a strangled gasp. Her breathing is heavy and ragged, and her mouth remains wide open in a ghostly replica of a scream. A buzzing fills her ears, blocking out the crickets and nighttime bugs outside her window, and only allows her to hear the echo of a drum beating quickly to the rhythm of her pounding heart.

With the rush of adrenaline, Maka's wide, teary eyes dart around the room. The dark shadows play tricks with her mind, disorienting her before she realizes that the dark masses are simply her desk or chair or a stack of books, and that the startling, glowing red off to her side are the digital numbers of her alarm clock. She continues to look around just to be sure.

Maka's not sure if she is looking for something or if she is just making sure that there is nothing there. Even if she does see something, she doubts that she would be able to react to it. Her body is nearly paralyzed save for her hands clenching her blanket so tightly that her knuckles seem white.

Minutes pass before Maka's tense body relaxes. Her breathing evens out, her heart settles down, and her hands hold the blanket loosely in her grip. Everything is quiet once more, save for the crickets chirping to a nonexistent tune outside. It is then when Maka is calm and rational that she realizes how childish she is being—getting all worked up over a simple nightmare.

At one point, she considered telling Soul about her nightly scares. Before heading to bed a few nights ago, she dropped by his room with the full intention to tell him everything. Of course, she beat around the bush and then lost her nerve entirely, realizing that Soul doesn't consider something uncool like nightmares worth discussing. When Soul had that nightmare that involved her, he never talked to her about it. He let it play its course until he stopped having them. How pitiful would it be for her to tell Soul that she couldn't handle bad dreams like he could?

"Maybe it's not just a bad dream," Maka murmurs aloud. The volume of her own voice startles her as it breaks through the quiet of the night. She stops speaking aloud and keeps her thoughts to herself.

Soul's nightmares were impractical and fictional. They sounded terrifying, certainly, but in the end, they weren't real. Maybe that is her problem. Her nightmare isn't as outlandish as Soul's. She cannot lucidly dream and remind herself that everything happening is impractical and could never happen in real life.

In real life, her nightmare has already happened.

It always starts the same way. She's with Soul and everyone, and she is filled with the feeling that when they are all together, they are powerful. They are safe. Whatever is thrown at them can easily be handled when they are together.

Then _he_ appears. Sometimes his form is clearly visible, and other times it is a shapeless blur. Whatever his appearance, the end result is always the same: When Maka turns to Soul, he's gone. Everyone's gone. It's just her...and _him._

There's a mocking, high-pitched laugh that invades her ears and makes the hair on the back of her neck stand tall and her skin crawl. She closes her eyes for a second to recollect herself, but her entire world seems to turn upside down and fill her with a sense of vertigo. Not long after, an eerily calm voice breaks through the silence.

_"Wake up."_

She does wake up. Her eyes open just as wide as they have before and all she can register is the one hand tightly gripping her throat and the other hand digging its fingers into her side. Three red eyes gaze down at her with such intensity, such malice, such insanity...

She has awoken to a living nightmare.

She screams. She howls into the night as fear rockets through her senses. Her throat aches as her voice forces its way out, but she cannot stop the action or the paralyzing sensation.

It's then that she awakens for real with her mouth still open in a silent scream and the same fear carrying over from the nightmare...the memory.

Maka doesn't understand it. She doesn't understand how she could be so terrified of reliving this scenario over and over again. She has already lived through it in reality once before! She defeated the Kishin by overpowering this fear! How could it still rattle her to the point of turning her into nothing but a child plagued with bad dreams? Where has her courage gone?

The door to her bedroom slowly creaks open, and Maka is grateful that the fear has already left her. She tenses, analyzing the various attack methods and escape routes that she can perform, but stops when Soul peeks his head through the opening.

"Hey," Soul greets, obviously aware that it is nearly 3:00AM. "Are you alright? I heard you thrashing in here."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Maka automatically responds, forcing herself to relax. "I just had a bad dream. I'm fine."

There's a short silence as Soul's eyes bore into her, making Maka feel particularly vulnerable. She wants to tell him to go back to bed, but her voice refuses to work.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Soul asks, entering the room. Maka quickly shakes her head.

"No, I'm fine. It was just a bad dream. I'm fine. Just go back to bed," she snaps, not really knowing why she sounded so agitated at that moment. It isn't as if Soul is being unreasonable to ask that.

Soul studies her once more before approaching her bedside, obviously not content to do as she asks. "Really, Maka, this is the fourth time that I've gotten up in the middle of the night and heard you acting as though someone was attacking you. What's going on with my partner?"

The word "nothing" is on the tip of Maka's tongue, but she's unable to articulate it. All this time she thought Soul had no idea that she was having nightmares. How could she when they only happen at night when Soul is sleeping as well?

"Well?" Soul prompts. "It's almost four in-the-morning, Maka. Spit it out."

Maka frowns at Soul's edginess, but she knows from being with him that it's just his way of showing that he really wants to know. She wants to lord it over him that he never confided in her when he had those nightmares, but she honestly doesn't have the strength or fortitude to do so.

"...remember when we fought the Kishin?" The way Soul's eyes widen before narrowing tells Maka that he does, in fact, remember it, and that he's not exactly thrilled to hear that as an opening line to Maka's problem.

"Yeah," Soul reluctantly says. "What of it?"

Maka clears her throat, feeling a phantom pressure against her neck. "When you were all unconscious... I had a bad scare."

Impatience wears on Soul's face. His eyes narrow even more and he grits his sharp teeth before retorting, "Yeah, but we were all fine and you beat Asura. What of it, Maka?"

"That's it," Maka voices. "I had a bad scare. That's it."

She doesn't tell him what the bad scare was because she can't tell him. She cannot even find the words to describe her situation. If she speaks her residual nightmare out loud, she feels as though it will become real. That the next time she wakes up to those eyes, she won't wake up to anything else.

"But you're not going to tell me what," Soul clarifies, putting his hands into his hoodie that he wore to bed. "That's uncool, Maka."

Maka doesn't defend herself. She stares down at her hands and bites her lower lip, just wanting the confrontation to be over. Surprisingly, Soul's outburst does not signal his departure, as he seats himself on the edge of Maka's bed.

"You know," he starts, making sure that Maka is listening to him, "I'm not going to judge you. Whatever bad dream you're having is bothering you, and it's my job as your weapon to defeat anything that is bothering my meister. So, as my meister, it's your job to tell me what's bothering you. How can I protect you if you don't?"

"It's a bad dream, Soul," Maka says almost tiredly. "You can't turn into a scythe and destroy it."

"I didn't mean it like that, tiny tits," Soul groans, looking at her in exasperation. Maka frowns at the insult, but doesn't say or do anything. Her weapon's look softens when she doesn't react. "Fine, you'll tell me when you're ready."

Maka is almost thankful for Soul deciding to not press the matter anymore when he tells her to scoot over on the bed.

"Soul! What are you doing!"

With his usual toothy smirk, Soul forcefully pushes Maka's body to the other side of her bed, climbing in himself. He pulls the blankets over his body and lies down on his side, facing Maka.

"Well, if you're not going to be cool and tell me what's up, then I'm going to be cool and make sure you don't get anymore nightmares."

Maka's face turns bright red with a mixture of shock, embarrassment, and anger. "Soul, you have ten seconds to get out of this bed! Ten—"

"C'mon, Maka."

"—nine, eight—"

"I'm doing this for your own good!"

"—seven, six, five—"

"We're just going to be sleeping. I don't go for girls with flat chests."

"—four, three—"

"Do you really want to be alone?"

"—two..." Maka stops her countdown, staring at Soul. He's looking at her with such a serious, intense expression that she cannot even fabricate a response to his person question. "No..."

"I don't want you being alone when you're that scared," Soul states, ignoring a slight blush that has stemmed on both of their cheeks. "Maybe you'll stop having the nightmare if you know someone will be right here to wake you up."

Memories of her younger self waking up after a nightmare to find her father gently picking her up and allowing her to sleep in-between her mother and him flash through Maka's mind. Whether it be the comfort of having someone there or simply feeling safe, it always stopped the onslaught of nightmares that she had when she was a child.

Sighing, Maka settles back down under the covers next to Soul. Over Soul's white hair she can see the red numbers displaying 4:03AM. At least she can comfort herself in knowing that they would only be sharing the bed for a few more hours. She could deal with that. It isn't as if they've never shared a bed before, after all.

This thought further comforts Maka. Soul isn't like her cheating father or like other perverted guys. She shouldn't feel nervous or timid about this situation. It actually feels...nice. She'll never admit it aloud, but having Soul next to her may be the best solution to her nightmares. How could she feel that level of fear when her weapon is right by her side?

Soul's eyes suddenly open, catching Maka's own staring at him. He leans forward, telling Maka in a low voice, "Go to sleep." He stops just a few inches from Maka's, resting his head closer to hers on the pillow. Maka's face heats up before she turns her body away from Soul, closing her eyes.

Sleep finds her rather quickly, and she wakes up to the sound of her alarm clock and muddled thoughts of marshmallow trees.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Obviously this story takes place in the anime's universe since the manga hasn't gotten as far as defeating the Kishin. This idea stemmed from the scene where Maka screams. I always thought that was a powerful scene, and this story developed from that. I'm not sure if I should leave it as it is or continue it, so any thoughts would be appreciated!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: After receiving a few reviews prompting me to continue the story, I decided to make this into a short story with multiple chapters. I hope you enjoy it, and thank you for reading!

* * *

><p>A Living Nightmare<p>

II

"Ready for bed?"

Maka sighs to herself, mumbling a quiet "yeah" towards Soul. For the past two weeks they have been sharing her bed ever since her problem with nightmares came to light. After the first couple nights, Soul opted to return to his own bed, and they were able to get through that night and the next without any issues.

On the fifth night, Maka actually woke up screaming bloody murder. The nightmare had come back with a vengeance. For starters, when she opened her eyes to that blinding terror, she didn't immediately wake up. She remained on the ground with the Kishin over her while she screamed and screamed, but the image never faded and she physically could not wake up.

Thankfully, Soul heard her screams (how could he not?) and shook her awake, clenching her shoulders so tightly that in a daze, Maka lashed out and punched him right in the face, screaming for him to get away from her. She felt horrible when she realized what she had done, but Soul waved it off, more concerned for her well being than his, as always.

They tried everything since that night. She gave up eating sweets, having heard that they could cause nightmares. She even gave up reading at night before she went to bed. When she cut those out, she even tried imagining the nightmare ending differently while she was awake. When none of those ideas worked, Soul and she had pushed Soul's bed into her room to see if having someone with her in the room would be enough to dissuade the nightmares. She still woke up screaming.

When Blair came home one day to find Maka and Soul in bed together, the perverted cat had immediately jumped to conclusions and prepared to congratulate them and at the same time whine to Soul about why she wasn't good enough until Maka got so flustered that she Maka-chopped Soul. With a bleeding forehead, Soul explained to Blair about Maka's nightmares, prompting the cat-lady to offer to take over for Soul while in her cat form.

Everything seemed to work out all right, until Soul shook Maka awake from her nightmare and pointed to Blair who had been kicked right out of bed and against the wall.

Oops.

"Maybe we should tell your father," Blair suggested after she finished licking her wounds.

Maka immediately shot down the idea. Like hell that was ever going to happen! Besides, her father wouldn't spend every night with her until she stopped having nightmares. How would he be able to see his precious floozies if he's cooped up at night with Maka?

Soul and she are tired, and she can tell that Soul is beyond irritated with the whole prospect of spending every night in bed with her. She has suggested numerous times that he just leave her be, that maybe she just needs to deal with the nightmare on her own, but Soul just shakes his head and tells her to stop being an idiot.

No matter her thoughts on everything, she falls into the same routine that she has developed with Soul. She goes around her bed to the left side of it, allowing Soul to take the right side of the bed that is closer to the bedroom door. Wordlessly, she pulls the covers back for both of them, and they each slide into their respective sides, always maintaining a small distance between their forms. Maka is so accustomed to having Soul sleep next to her that all the awkwardness has gone. They are partners, and it isn't as though they're the only pair that sleeps in close proximity to each other.

Though Maka doesn't feel awkward sleeping in the same bed as Soul, she is definitely not about to let the rest of Spartoi know of her new sleeping arrangements with Soul. Tsubaki and Black*Star may be able to get away with sharing a room together, but sharing a bed? There will just be too many accusations thrown around.

And she doesn't want anyone else aside from Soul and Blair to know of her nightmares.

"Do you always have to think so much before you go to bed?" Soul questions, breaking her train of thought. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye, finding her partner lying on his side with his elbow digging into the pillow and his head resting on his hand. "You're supposed to relax when you go to sleep, not stress yourself out."

"Gee, Soul, can you blame me?" Maka mutters, looking away from him and focusing on the ceiling. "I'm just so frustrated with everything."

"You're frustrated with everything?" Soul repeats incredulously. "I'm just as frustrated as you are. I haven't been able to sleep in my own bed for two weeks."

A grimace tightens on Maka's face. "You can go back to your own bed. I'm not stopping you."

Shuffling on Maka's left occurs as soon as she's finished speaking, and she peeks over to see if Soul is actually going to leave. Her chest constricts tightly for a moment before she realizes that Soul is just shifting over to lie on his back.

"Yeah, right. I'm not leaving until these stupid nightmares of yours stop," Soul proclaims, and though secretly Maka is grateful for his proclamation, her stomach fills with guilt. Soul must have noticed her change in demeanor, for he absentmindedly reaches a hand out to pat her on the head. "Don't worry. We'll figure out a way to get them to stop. Just go to sleep."

Annoyed by being treated like a dog, Maka smacks his hand away and turns away from him. She waits a moment before whispering, "Goodnight, Soul."

"G'night, Maka."

Silence stretches across the darkness that consumes the entire area. Maka takes a tentative step forward, unsure of the stability of the ground in front of her. A rough surface meets the bottom of her shoe, prompting her to continue moving forward into the darkness.

Each step echoes throughout the darkness, and her surroundings use this sound to make it appear as though there is someone or something else out there. Maka is alone and unarmed, so she clenches her gloved hands into fists, preparing herself for any sort of attack. Despite the rising fear that creeps into the back of her mind, Maka remains calm and collected. She cannot let fear overpower her.

As she continues on, not trusting her eyes and barely trusting her ears, she catches the sound of skin slapping against the hard ground. They are definitely steps, meaning that someone or something that is barefoot is walking in the darkness too. Maka waits to see if the newcomer will reveal himself or herself, but as soon as she stops walking to have a better listen, the footsteps stop.

"Hello?" Maka voices into the darkness, ignoring the echo of her greeting. "Who's there?"

After her echoes fade away into silence, Maka strains her ears to listen for a response. For a while, no one answers, and there's complete quiet in the darkness. She is just about to continue walking on when the sound of hastened footsteps reverberate throughout the pitch-black landscape, seeming coming towards her in all directions.

Maka falls into her trained offensive position, waiting for the inevitable strike that could occur from any side. The footsteps grow louder and harsher as they come closer to her, and Maka's breathing quickens as she wildly looks around for the source. Then, when it seems as if the footsteps are on top of her, all sounds cease. Maka's harsh breathing catches in her throat with a small gasp, and she stares wide-eyed to the side of her, waiting.

A rustle of fabric catches her attention, and she looks down at her right arm to find a pale strip quickly wrapping itself around her arm. With a cry of alarm, Maka tries to yank her arm from the strip's grasp, only to find another strip circling around her left thigh. Maka throws her weight back, hoping to pull the strips and their owner down with her, but two more strips lash out at her, taking hold of her free arm and leg.

Immobile, Maka futilely struggles to loosen the pale, white strips. They simply tighten around her more, holding her slightly above the ground. Maka grits her teeth, glaring straight ahead into the darkness. Whoever is restraining her would pay dearly for their mistake.

"Who are you?" she demands to know. "What do you want?"

A high-pitched, chilling laughter fills the air, and Maka's heart lodges in her throat. Her previous courageousness all but vanishes as the overwhelming feeling of fear washes over her senses. Even without the strange strips restraining her, she would still feel paralyzed to the spot.

"What's wrong, Maka? I thought you had the courage to face lil' ol' me."

Three red eyes glow throughout the darkness before a pale face places them. A crazed grin accompanies the shocking face, sending shivers down her spine.

"Where's your courage, Maka?" he taunts, tilting his head to the side and grinning, if possible, wider. "Where did it go?"

A hand appears at her throat, and leathery skin brushes against the tender, soft skin of her throat before constricting around it. Another hand digs into her side, and she can tell from the sharp pain and the warm liquid coating her side that she is bleeding. There is no agonizing pain to follow the sensation, but Maka starts trembling anyway.

The face leans closer to hers until they're merely centimeters apart. A hot, moist breath puffs out steadily into her face, and she cringes with every breath she feels. The three red eyes leer down at her in a predatory gaze.

"Wake up."

Maka's lips part, and a blood-curdling scream retches from her throat. She squeezes her eyes shut tight, leaking salty, stinging tears out of the corners of them.

"Wake up!"

She screams louder and harder, wishing that she could just thrash out or move or do something aside from remaining in Asura's grasp.

"Maka! Wake up!"

Somehow, her wish came true, and her arms and legs promptly flail about as she desperately tries to create some distance between Asura and her. Her hand comes into contact with skin, and she's almost startled by the smooth, non-leathery feeling of the skin beneath her hand. She is, however, startled by the loud, masculine voice that accompanies her slap.

"Ow! Dammit, Maka! Wake up!"

Maka quickly opens her eyes to the sound of Soul's voice. He's crouched over her, holding a hand to his reddening cheek. There's a fleeting look of annoyance in his eyes, but it fades to worry when he realizes that she is staring at him in a sort of shock.

"Soul?" Maka questions in nearly a whisper. Her olive-green eyes are wide and hopeful.

"Yeah," Soul confirms, sitting back on the bed. He pauses, looking his meister over before continuing. "You were having a nightmare."

Obviously, is on the tip of Maka's tongue, but she prevents herself from making the remark. That's right. She has just had a nightmare.

"No..." Maka breathes, realizing that now even having Soul sleep next to her in the same bed isn't enough to deter those frightening dreams.

Soul seems to share her thoughts. "Maka, this isn't working."

"It's not," Maka moans, burying her face in her hands. "Soul, what am I going to do?"

"You," Soul starts, forcing Maka to look up at him, "are going to tell me what this stupid nightmare of yours is about."

"I told you," Maka says with all the petulance of a child. She looks towards her ruffled comforter as she repeats herself. "It's from when I had a bad scare with Asura—"

Soul grips Maka's shoulders, forcing her to look at him once more. "Maka!" he growls out. "What. Happened."

"I... Soul," she says in a small voice. "Please don't..."

Soul's stare in unwavering, and he refuses to let go of her shoulders. "Tell me."

If there is any type of stubbornness that can rival her own, it's Soul's. Sagging her shoulders in defeat, Maka takes a breath before reliving the story of her nightmare.

"At first, it was like a bad memory," she begins, trying to do anything but actually picture in her mind what happens. "Everyone would be unconscious, and I would be by myself."

Soul's grip on her shoulders weakens, but he doesn't remove his hands from her. His crimson eyes glance off to the side and his sharp teeth are tightly clenched. When he realizes that Maka has stopped her explanation, he looks back towards her. "Go on."

Drawing in another shaky breath, Maka continues, "That's when Asura would come... He always takes me by surprise. Sometimes just appearing and other times coming after me in the dark." Maka thinks of her most recent nightmare, wondering why none of her friends had been even present in the dream. "He holds me down or just traps me, but I can never move, just as when he held me down in real life. Then..."

"Then what?" Soul urges her to continue on.

"He'd tell me to 'wake up,'" Maka answers. "It's what he said to me before, and I ended up waking up to be filled with pure, unadulterated fear." Tears form at the corner of Maka's eyes. "I feel so scared when he says it that I just start screaming," Maka finally admits. "I'm so terrified of someone who is dead that I start screaming and I can't stop! Just seeing his face makes my blood run cold and I can't move or get away, so I just scream and scream and scream until I wake up for real." She breathes quickly, trembling as she finishes her tale. "I don't know why I'm so scared. I don't know why this is bothering me so much. It shouldn't be, should it? It's stupid, right?"

Soul doesn't respond right away, slipping his hands off her shoulders and leaving Maka to draw her knees to her chest and hug them in shame. She knows how stupid the nightmare sounds. When she repeats it aloud to herself during the day, she has no idea why she is so frightened of its events, but then when she is actually living them, she's terrified. There's nothing she can do to take away the overwhelming sense of pure fear.

"Maka," Soul finally voices, though he doesn't forcefully bring Maka's attention to his face. "Did you... Did you scream when he did that to you?"

Maka blinks her tears away, looking up at him. "W-Well, yeah... I was just filled with so much fear that I had to scream... I don't think you heard me because you were unconscious."

"No," Soul slowly says. "I did hear you. I just thought I was the one having a nightmare." Anger slips into Soul's voice once he admits this. "That was real? Your petrified screaming was real? That bastard held you down and forced you to scream for him!"

"Uh, Soul," Maka tries to cut in. "You're making it sound dirty..."

"Why didn't you tell me, Maka?" Soul suddenly questions, directing his anger towards her instead of the deceased Kishin. His rough voice and vicious glare startles Maka. "Is there anything else that bastard did to you? Is there? Tell me!"

For a moment, Maka mulls over what Soul's reaction would be if she told him how Asura held her down by her throat or how he dug his fingers into her side where the scars of his nails puncturing deep into her skin still reside. Her right hand absentmindedly moves to touch her side, but it's enough to bring about suspicion from Soul. Without a word, he practically throws himself on top of her and drags the hem of her shirt up just enough to show him her bare-naked side.

"Soul!" Maka shouts, finally getting over the shock. "Stop that!" She moves to pound his head one with her fist, but Soul skillfully catches her wrist, keeping her fist at bay. He examines her side with what little moonlight enters the room through the blinds, but the light is enough to show five deep, finger-sized puncture wounds.

"Is that from when he held you down?" Soul questions, curling his lip. He pulls Maka's shirt back down and lets go of her wrist, looking to her for an answer.

"Leave it, Soul," Maka orders, glaring at him. "He's dead. Dead and gone. This is just a stupid waste of time." With a huff, she lies back down on the bed, purposefully lying in the center of it, and pulls the covers tight up to her shoulders. "Just go back to your own room. Sleeping here's not helping anyway."

"Maka." Soul's anger slips into frustration. He gives an exasperated sigh before moving around on the bed, but Maka pretends to ignore him until she realizes that instead of sliding off the end of the bed, he has sidled up to the top of her bed, moving under the covers. He presses his front against her back, letting his arm rest loosely over her waist. Maka's face flushes as he buries his nose into her hair just at the nape of her neck.

Embarrassment and heat floods through Maka's senses, but she cannot think of an intelligible response to use. She just wants to scream for completely different reasons now and pummel Soul into an unrecognizable blob.

"Relax," Soul orders. His hot breath against the back of her neck sends an involuntary shiver down her spine. "It'll be easier to keep you from thrashing this way. We'll figure something else out in the morning." The arm that he has resting over her waist shifts, and he moves his open hand up towards hers. "We cool?"

Despite her upbringing—on her mother's part—telling her that this situation is wrong, she rests one of her hands in Soul's, allowing his larger, calloused hand to lightly grasp hers. She squeezes his hand back before releasing it, allowing Soul to shift closer to her body and keep his hand resting on the mattress in front of her.

Just pretend that Soul is protecting you, Maka thinks to herself. Technically, her weapon is trying to protect her psychically from an intangible threat. Yeah.

Please do not let Blair come into her room this morning. Hasn't Maka suffered enough?


	3. Chapter 3

A Living Nightmare

III

Having a boyfriend has never been high on Maka's priority list. She's quite certain that it doesn't even rank in the top thousand. Still, after reading hundreds of books detailing romantic relationship and playing video games that dealt with the pure love between the protagonist and the leading female, she has from time to time fantasized what her ideal relationship would be like with a guy.

At night, they would snuggle up with each other, relying more on their body heat to keep them warm than the covers they shared. He would hold her close while they slept, making her feel safe and secure in his arms, and she would rest her head upon his shoulder or chest. At some point she would entangle her nimble fingers in his soft hair, massaging his head whenever they woke up together.

When they did wake up, it would be slowly and gently. Her eyes would flutter open, and she would smile graciously up at him. He would peek his eyes open and smile back down at her, telling her how happy he was to wake up to her lovely smile.

Waking up with Soul is an entirely different experience altogether. For starters, she doesn't slowly or gently wake up. A loud, nasally snore rips through the peace and quiet, causing Maka to snap her eyes open. The morning sunlight is the first to greet her eyes, and she can almost picture it laughing as her as her eyes practically burn from the sensation.

Somehow, Maka and he had shifted at night so that Maka is now lying on her back with Soul partially sprawled out over her front. One of the covers has fallen onto the floor, and the sheets seem to be missing, allowing a nasty draft to freeze every part of Maka that is exposed to the cold air.

Soul's left arm hangs off the edge of the bed, and his right arm is practically bent around her head, trapping strands of her blonde hair beneath it. He also has managed to get his left leg entangled between her legs, but she can't move her head without ripping her hair out to see just what sort of position they are in.

The cherry that tops this dish of reality is that Soul's face is buried in the crook of her neck with a steady dream of drool spilling from the corner of his mouth and onto her skin, and don't get her started on the disgusting smell of morning breath assaulting her nose.

"Soul," Maka grounds out, keeping her anger in check. He's sleeping. He has no idea what he's doing. He has no idea that he's drooling on her. "Wake. Up."

Her partner grunts, but his breathing doesn't quicken nor does he move to signal that he is awake. Maka's eye twitches.

"Soul!" she shouts in the sharpest tone she can manage at 7:00AM. Her tactic works, and Soul jerks awake, lifting his head up in a daze and looking around the room. He blinks his ruby red eyes a few times, accustoming them to the morning light. Familiarity soon sinks into his orbs, and he looks down at Maka.

"It's t' early," he mumbles, looking at her with drowsy eyes.

"No," Maka says, though her patience is wearing thin. "It's seven, and I need you to get off me."

"Mm." Soul slowly blinks at her and dips his head back down a bit, looking ready to go back to sleep on top of her. He finally succeeds in bringing Maka's temper and embarrassment over the edge.

"Off!" Maka uses her strength to jolt herself forward, sending Soul reeling off her body and onto the floor below. He grunts in pain as his body collides with the hard floor, but Maka ignores him as she hastily moves about her room, grabbing her school outfit and toiletries as she heads to the bathroom, intent on taking a nice, hot shower to get Soul's drool off her neck.

Thirty minutes later, Maka is squeaky clean and walking with Soul to school. He offered to drive them there with his motorcycle, but Maka could only equate his motorcycle with having to hold onto him, and she has honestly had enough physical contact with him for one morning.

They fall into a sluggish step with one another as they approach the school grounds. The adrenaline rush from this morning is gone, and Maka is starting to feel languid from lack of proper sleep. She doesn't want to add to Soul's worry, but those nightmares leave her breathless. Her entire body feels sore and her chest constantly feels tight. It may be just normal anxiety, but Maka doesn't like the weak feeling either way.

"HEY!" A loud, obnoxious, and familiar voice interrupts Maka's thoughts, and she looks up to see her childhood friend and his weapon in front of them. "How can you lowly beings be so tired in my presence? Is the great Black*Star too much for you to handle? Haha! Of course I am!"

"Maka-chan," Tsubaki's soft voice follows Black*Star's harsh, loud one. Her worried eyes look over Maka and Soul's tired forms. "Are you alright? You look unwell..."

Out of the corner of her eye, Maka can see Soul looking at her, waiting to see if she will unveil the truth to their closest friends. She smiles tightly, shaking her head in a convincing motion.

"I'm fine. It must be the change in weather that has me so tired."

Soul snorts, but he doesn't contradict her statement, and Tsubaki and Black*Star do not notice their nonverbal exchange.

"Ha! Like the weather could stop the great, magnificent Black*Star! Hurricanes, blizzards, tornados—whatever the gods throw at me, I will surpass! Nothing can stop me!" With that declaration, the ninja-assassin turns on heel and starts shouting this new statement out to anyone and everyone within earshot. Tsubaki gives Maka one last look of concern before following her ostentatious meister.

While Black*Star is a never-ending source of earache to Maka, she cannot help but feel jealous of his disposition. Even after nearly being pulverized by Asura, her childhood friend still comes out on top, acting as though nothing in the world could get him down. There is no sign of fear or worry in his actions. Telling him about her recurring nightmares would just give him something to rave about when it comes to how much stronger he is than her.

"Yo, tiny tits, are you coming?"

Blinking, Maka looks up in almost a daze to find that Soul has walked a bit ahead of her. His head is titled to the side a tad, and for some strange reason, Maka feels as though he has been trying to do a soul connection with her. Since there is no sign of danger around, Maka knows that this has to be a mistaken sensation, but it still bothers her along with everything else.

Without a word spoken between them, Maka follows Soul into the school, thinking through their entire school day of how she would handle her problem. Soul seats himself next to her, occasionally prodding or poking her when she would drift off into thought. It's so hard to concentrate on what is being taught and lectured when she feels so drained and weak. At some point she can even see how Soul and Black*Star could sleep through their classes.

School doesn't end soon enough for Maka, and as soon as they're dismissed, she tries to book it from the classroom. A little walk will wake her up some more. Physical exercise is good for the soul and the brain, after all.

Just as she reaches for the classroom door, a dark-haired boy with three white lines in his hair stops her. There's such a look of distress on his face that Maka barely recognizes the son of Lord Death.

"M-Maka," Kid stutters, shaking. "You-You-You're hair! It's unsymmetrical! Criminally unsymmetrical!"

While Maka is well aware from her morning rush that she has not put a lot of effort into her looks—not that she ever does—she doubts that having her pigtails be unsymmetrical isn't a criminal offense in anyone but Kid's book.

"Kid," Liz says in a patronizing tone, specifically the tone she reserves for Death the Kid's irrational and obsessional compulsion to have complete symmetry, "stop bothering her." Her sister, Patty, simply giggles at Kid's antics from Liz's side.

Death the Kid doesn't listen to Liz, choosing instead to step closer to Maka while reaching out his pale hand towards her. "No worries, my dear friend! I can restore your symmetry and put your mind at ease!"

"You're the only one who's bothered by it," a few people throughout the room point out in exasperation. Maka's attention isn't on them, though. All she can see is a hand reaching towards her, and all she can hear is the sound of her own heartbeat. Her pupils dilate, fixated on the hand in front of her, and she takes one last breath before it hitches in her throat. In a split-second, she pushes her hands out in front of her with an accompanying cry of fear, shoving the hand away from her.

On instinct, she jumps back to distance herself from her attacker, keeping her hands out and ready in case of a counterattack. It's then when she has enough distance to just step back and analyze the situation does she realize just how pathetic of a situation she is in.

Death the Kid still has his hand reaching out towards her, but his fingers are bent into a weak grip, as if he's trying to retract his move but is too occupied with being shocked to do so. Patty is no longer giggling, giving her a curious look with a slight cock of her head, and Liz has a fine, inquiring eyebrow raised at her.

Black*Star and Tsubaki, who had been watching their display from the back of the classroom, are also giving Maka questioning shares. Tsubaki's gaze is filled with utmost concern, probably thinking back to their meeting this morning. Black*Star, on the other hand, is frowning without a hint of amusement in his expression. It's perturbing to have the naturally rambunctious ninja completely silent.

She dreads looking to her left, but her wracked nerves endorse the onslaught of humiliation and guilt and crimson red eyes catch olive green. There's shock and confusion evident on her partner's face, but what strikes her is the curl of his lip and inexplicable anger in his face. It startles Maka, as she's unsure where that anger is being directed. It couldn't be Death the Kid since he really didn't do anything, so would that leave her as the only other logical option?

"M-Maka-chan?" Tsubaki's gentle voice ends the awkward silence. "What is wrong?"

Everyone's eyes remain intently on Maka, waiting for her reply. She rifles her brain for a good response, but no suitable lie surfaces. Instead, she slowly moves around Death the Kid and towards the door.

"I, uh, gotta go. Bye!"

She sprints, leaving five very confused people and one very angry person behind in the classroom. A clear destination forms in her mind's eye, and she beelines it towards the school library.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Thank you for reading and to those who have taken the time to review! The next chapter will hopefully be out soon. :)<p> 


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